


A New Beginning 2: Now with more baby!

by nerdy-flower (baconnegg)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Gen, Hanzo has Prosthetics, Kid Fic, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Seahorse dad Jesse, Trans Jesse McCree, baby content, dudes being dads, fisherman hanzo, hanzo pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/nerdy-flower
Summary: Their first year with their son Hikaru is so much more than Hanzo could have ever expected.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	A New Beginning 2: Now with more baby!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A New Beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22095205) by [nerdy-flower (baconnegg)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/nerdy-flower). 



If Hanzo had known who his son would be before he was born, it would have been infinitely harder to wait. 

Hikaru is sweet, sleepy, and healthy, and that is enough to knock Hanzo senseless every hour. The call to sit up and stare at the puffy, ruddy blend of their features is often louder than the call of exhaustion. His gurgly cry is unlike anything Hanzo has ever heard, endlessly asking him _'Now what?'_

“How are you so small?” Jesse whispers one night, cuddling their wrinkly potato baby tight to his chest, rubbing tiny fingers between his thumb and forefinger before lifting them for a smooch. “What are you supposed to do with these, hm? Hm?” 

Hikaru's October 11th birth necessitates a pumpkin hat as well as several pumpkin-themed onesies. His pale brown eyes shine beneath the orange rim, and he is perfect. 

The caretaking compulsion is a relief, at least to Hanzo. Jesse is tired, sore, and in somatic disarray, but he can breathe easier and there are things Hanzo can do for him besides rub his back and offer sympathy. He can cook healthy and delicious food for Jesse, to nourish them both and help him heal. He can put his speed-diapering lessons into practice. He can clean their small, metallic room to keep the chaos at bay as they both learn a hundred things every hour. 

“Take off everything but his diaper and wrap him in a blanket,” Ana's voice hums through the phone, patient while Hanzo struggles to peel fabric off thrashing, tiny limbs. “Good. Now open your shirt and lay him against your bare chest, lean back if you can.” 

Hikaru's inconsolable bawling subsides to soft grunts within minutes, his warm body settling beneath Jesse's serape, little hands patting against his skin. The dragons curl up on either side of the baby, having fussed right alongside Hanzo. He full-body sighs, whispering lest he disturb him or Jesse, exhausted and trying to sleep with a pillow over his head. “There aren't enough words in existence to adequately express my gratitude.” 

Ana's laugh rings low in his ear. “I told you, skin-to-skin works miracles. Sometimes babies just need to be held.” 

Hikaru never lacks for tender touches. He is not loved, but adored by their friends and family and forever scooped up in the arms of someone terrifically happy to see him. Jesse claims the side of the bed where the crib attaches for ease of reach, often sleeping with his hand blanketing their son's back. Hanzo sleeps curled behind him, but frequently naps during the day in an identical position. 

Indeed, if not for the sleep deprivation and existential stress of being charged with protecting a fragile, helpless life, newborns would be a bit boring. Their baby wakes, makes his needs known, and dozes off again soon after. Thankfully, he's also the epitome of adorable. 

“Awh, look at this bedhead!- What. What did I just touch?” Hana's smile drops into an expression of horror as she rips her hand away. “Uh, there's a soft spot on his head?” 

Jesse pauses in draining his protein shake, bags under his eyes. “Yeah, Angie says they're called fontanelles. Takes a while for the skull to fuse, I guess.” 

Hana gapes, aghast while Hikaru drools contently in her arms. “How long is 'a while?!'” 

Angela receives their anxieties with tired grace, Hikaru's check-ups instilling routine dread in both of them. They both reach for him instinctively when Angela takes him away for his first vaccination. 

“If you're holding him and he feels pain, he'll think you hurt him,” Angela explains calmly, holding a grumbly, near-naked Hikaru and a multi-chambered needle that looks much too large for his chubby thigh. “If I give him back when I'm done, you get to be the heroes rescuing him from the scary pinchy lady.” 

A sound idea, although Hikaru's squalls don't sound the least bit appreciative. 

He grows more alert each passing day, adjusting to the bright, noisy world outside the visceral, cozy comfort of Jesse's abdomen. Focusing his glassy eyes on his Papa's smiling face, reaching up for him with tiny, grasping fingers. Looking on with curious indifference as his fathers unwrap his first Christmas and New Year's presents for him. Everything is a first, and Hikaru makes astonishing the mundane. 

“I would die for you,” Hanzo informs their son as he zips him into a new onesie, picking him up and cradling him in his palms. “I would kill ten thousand men with my bare hands to protect you. Is that strange to say?” 

Hikaru gazes coolly back at him and promptly spits up on his clean outfit. 

Hanzo often converses with him, much to Jesse's amusement. He loves taking Hikaru on pleasantly slow strolls to and from the supermarket, the baby swaddled tight against his chest. 

“What do you think?” Hanzo holds up two cans so Hikaru can see them. “This one is cheaper, but I think this is the one Jesse used last time.” 

Hikaru coos, gumming on his fist, squinting out at the glow of the shelves and displays. 

Hanzo nods in agreement, placing the latter in the cart. “You're right, we should stick with what we know. Now, what should we get for snacks?” 

“Abuh.” 

“Hm, I don't think they have the good ice cream here, but we can check.” 

He never anticipated the scent of his child's scalp as being one of the most enjoyable parts of fatherhood, but it's his favourite indulgence as they follow the beach back to base. Ducking his head to breathe it in, one hand resting on the carrier and the other slung with bags of necessities. 

“Are you cold?” He asks of the bundled boy, him and Jesse always struggling to follow Ana's 'one more layer than what you're wearing' advice. “It's not so chilly here, really. We had real winter in Hanamura. The snow would pile up to the windowsills some years, and then others it was barely worth sweeping off the walkways.” 

He hums tunelessly, watching a few seagulls float high on an ocean breeze, Hikaru softly gurgling as the sun drops away. “Someday, Otou-san will take you to where it snows. You shouldn't grow up without throwing at least one snowball.” 

Their son soon laughs for the first time, in the arms of his self-proclaimed favourite uncle, and Hanzo feels his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Jesse! Come quick!” 

Jesse darts back into the rec room like his boots are on fire, still clutching an empty glass. “What is it?” 

“Genji, again.” 

“Watch him not do it this time,” Genji snorts, but blows another loud raspberry against Hikaru's belly, provoking another giggle fit. “See? Someone thinks I'm funny.” 

Jesse finds his words first, scooping up their laughing baby and covering his cheeks with kisses. “You know this means you're in charge of throwing the party, right?” 

“What party? Since when?” 

“It's how we do things back where I'm from. You made him laugh, you have to help him host the party. Them's the rules.” 

Jesse deposits Hikaru back into Hanzo's arms while the two old friends trade teasing barbs. Hanzo can only stare back at their smiling son, the universe feeling entirely safe and correct for at least a moment. 

From him, they draw the strength that carries them both, when bodies fail and tempers fray. Exiting Overwatch is not without its jaw-clenching bureaucracy, but they're eventually permitted their leave and a home in a village near the coast. White-walled and small, minimally furnished, certainly not outfitted with a security system and housing two trained assassins. Definitely not. Admire the front garden and move along. 

Their little house has missing roof tiles and a leaky kitchen sink, but it's everything to Jesse. Despite not being as recovered as he had hoped to be by now, he revels in small repairs and the DIY assembly of furniture and frames. Hanzo finds his resilience nothing short of remarkable, carrying on with a still-healing body and a baby that requires his calories, care, and consciousness. 

Often, he'll return to find Jesse bouncing Hikaru gently in one arm and stirring a pot of soup with the other, singing to him with gentle, unabashed enthusiasm. _“Y entonces poderte abrazar, si no estás aquí algo falta...”_

It's enough to make Hanzo fall for him all over again, and realize that this is his. His home, his Jesse, their son, and something unfurls within him. It picks him up out of bed for the twentieth time in a single night, moves his hands on autopilot to cook a full dinner when Jesse is starving, aching, and irritable, and fights to calm his fears when Hikaru's first cold necessitates medicine and frequent nose-suction. 

They both return to the Watchpoint irregularly to train and provide or receive intel, but generally keep rather ordinary hours. No longer running errands at dusk provides a new, unexpected challenge for Hanzo. 

“Oh, what a perfect little angel!” An older woman seemingly appears next to him as he inspects some corn in the produce section, pinching Hikaru's cheek without asking. “What's his name? How old is he?” 

“Is he your first?” A stylish couple quizzes him in the spice aisle. “How many do you plan on having? He'll get bored without a sibling, you know.” 

The uninvited touches and questions seem unavoidable, simply going from shop to shop with a baby makes him a moving target, even when his greasy hair and unkempt clothes broadcast what he sees as a fairly clear 'not in the mood for socializing' message. He's never been known for his people skills, but some grocery runs feel like a barrage. 

Worst yet is the advice. Hikaru is wearing too little or too much. He should or shouldn't have a jacket. He ought to have shoes, or else flat feet are inevitable. That redness on his cheek should be looked at, or have a certain cream put on it. He shouldn't be eating that, he should be eating this. He should be sleeping less, he shouldn't be in that kind of carrier at his age, he should be nursing on a strict schedule. Everyone seems to know exactly how to look after his son, except Hanzo. 

“Cash or credit?” 

Hanzo blinks at the bored young cashier, dragons buzzing in his arm. “Yes.” 

His mind is static as he drags their cart back home. Jesse notices quickly, impervious to Hanzo's bullshit after their years together. “Go lay down, sugar. I can handle dinner.” 

“No, you made it yesterday. You should be resting.” Hanzo flips the burners to low as Hikaru starts to fuss in his bouncy seat, cries sharp in his ear, but Jesse grabs him by the shoulders. 

“Alright, you're coming with me.” Jesse spins him around and starts walking him towards the couch. 

“No, Jess, I have to-” 

His partner comes around in front of him and kisses his forehead with silencing sweetness. “You're allowed to be tired.” 

Hanzo is out of words, borrowed and his own, so allows himself to be pushed down to sit, a serape thrown around his shoulders and his headphones dropped in his lap. Above the music, Hanzo hears Jesse explaining tonight's recipe to Hikaru, who babbles back with enthusiasm. Seemingly a second later, Jesse touches his shoulder and hands him a plate of stir fry. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he goes back for seconds. Perhaps he should set a reminder to eat lunch. 

Eating wakes him up enough to help get Hikaru down for bed. His legs off, Hanzo slides into the bath first, sinking in up to his shoulders before Jesse passes him their son. He hasn't started disliking baths yet, relaxing under his chin and seeming to enjoy the warm water as much as Hanzo does. Jesse sits carefully on the low stool beside the tub. “I'd say ya got about ten minutes before he wets on you.” 

“I'll relish every second,” Hanzo drawls, scooping up water to soak his son's hair. He's still impossibly small, but growing. Recently, he successfully rolled over without getting stuck on his belly and crying. A monumental achievement, as far as they're concerned. 

Jesse's fingers sweep his overgrown hair back from his brow, smiling at him with a love so quietly intense, Hanzo can only answer it with a kiss. 

“Do you know who this is?” Hanzo holds his phone just out of reach of Hikaru's grabby hands, the two of them spending a lazy afternoon in the sunny living room while Jesse's gone adventuring with Ana and Fareeha. “This is your grandfather, you definitely have his eyebrows.” 

“Dahga,” Hikaru coos, thrusting a set of rubber keys into his mouth. Teething hasn't been pleasant, but his pain seems lessened today. 

“He was a good man.” Hanzo adds, keeping Hikaru propped up with a palm against his chest. His father's hands had been bloody, but not uniquely so amongst their circle. He was vicious when called to be, but could also be incredibly gentle, doting at times. Those parts deserve to be remembered as well. “I miss him often. I learned a great deal from him, and I hope to pass some of his wisdom on to you. 

“This is your grandmother, she could split five arrows down the middle without breaking a sweat. I owe her my life for more than the obvious reason.” Hanzo chuckles, zooming in on the picture. All of them are damaged slightly, salvaged from Shimada Castle, but a stain doesn't disturb the steadiness of his mother's gaze. “Genji says you have her nose, but I'm not so sure. I think your nose might be from your Papa's side.” 

“Gehgeh!” Hikaru drops his keys on the floor, knowing Hanzo will pick them up no matter how many times he does it. 

“You want to see a picture of your uncle? Alright.” Hanzo flips through the photos once he sanitizes and returns the teethers to Hikaru. “Here we are- I forgot how small he was. He's only three here, it took a while for him to catch up to me.” 

“Ahbeh.” 

“He's only an inch taller, hush.” Hanzo snorts, kissing his son's crown. “He's coming to visit this weekend, and Zenyatta too. Won't that be fun?” 

In the photo, his hand is on Genji's shoulder, his smile posed but genuine as Genji beams. He had thrown a mighty tantrum moments earlier when their mother said he couldn't bring his Pachimari plush into the family photo, but was immediately delighted when Hanzo let him stand in the front. “I wonder...if he had children of his own, would he trust me to look after them?” 

Hikaru tosses his keys on the floor again with a grunt, bringing Hanzo back to reality. He turns his phone off and sets it aside, turning Hikaru to face him as guilt tugs at his lips. “I'm sorry. I know you can't really understand me, but I shouldn't burden you with things like that. Can you forgive me?” 

“Agoh.” Hikaru curls one fist into his mouth, the other reaching up to grasp Hanzo's nose. His little nails dig in as he smiles, wide and gummy. One day he may well dismiss Hanzo, possibly even hate him. But for now he loves him, simply for being his father, and that is incredible. 

“Awh, would you look at that?” Jesse comes in quietly, boots already off and leather jacket hanging open. “My two favourite guys having a snuggle, what's better than this?” 

Hanzo scrubs a hand over his face, rousing from his doze as Jesse kisses both their heads. Hikaru is curled so sweetly on his chest that he never wishes to move. “The leftovers you brought home? Smells like curry.” 

“It's in sealed containers, how can you tell?” 

“I was trained to use all five of my senses.” Hanzo lets his eyes fall shut again, just for a second, just to rest them. “One can never let their guard down, after all.” 

Jesse snorts, kissing him again. “Clearly.” 

Though his fathers are no longer full agents, Hikaru is never far from his extended Overwatch family. The elimination of most Talon splinter groups as well as the remnants of the Shimada Clan has calmed things down considerably, if not completely. The ramshackle, bittersweet team that first got Watchpoint Gibraltar humming again borders on unrecognizable. 

“You like this, huh?” Gabe asks of Hikaru, decked out in a frog onesie and propped up in his bouncy seat on a mess hall table, shaking one of his rattles. He disappears the toy into his nanites once again, holding up his open hands with a mildly surprised expression. “Where'd it go?” 

“Daaaah!” Hikaru shrieks, smacking the little table attached to his seat, eyes wide at Gabe's shifting hands. 

“You've got a little something on your foot,” Gabe rasps, pretending to draw the rattle out from Hikaru's ankle, holding it up. “Weird. You need some pockets on that thing, kiddo. You'll lose this if you're not careful.” 

Hanzo turns to check the noodles he's hurriedly boiling before Hikaru gets fussy again, noticing Jack blandly pretending to make some coffee with one hand, actually discreetly filming Gabe with the other. He catches Ana's eye while she lets a cutscene play on her handheld game, and she grins. 

It's those three, as well as Reinhardt, who offer to watch Hikaru for his first overnight visit. An echo of the communal parenting Fareeha enjoyed during many months lodged in family quarters with her mother. He and Jesse are grateful, and can imagine nowhere safer, but their eagerness fades to reluctance as they return to their silent home. 

Hanzo reaches out to rub Jesse's back through his thin shirt, the days growing warmer. “Would you like to join me in the shower?” 

Jesse smiles then, the crease easing from his brow. “God, yeah.” 

They kiss under the stream of hot water a while, Hanzo taking time to wash every inch of Jesse that he can reach. He turns covetous whenever he has Jesse's bare skin beneath his hands, luxuriating in every sensation of him. Adoring the big, beautiful body that has taught him so much about his own and the innumerable intimacies that can be enjoyed with someone worthy of trust and love. 

“I'd like to try something.” Hanzo draws a long strip of fabric from the nightstand, cut from one of the scraps they've been using for mending. “I want to tease you and see how long you can stand it.” 

Jesse groans beneath him, shirt undone and wet hair sticking to the pillow. “We get a night to ourselves and you wanna be mean to me?” 

Hanzo reflexively winds the fabric around his finger. “So that's a no?” 

Jesse smiles, a corner of his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Didn't say that.” 

He gets Jesse naked and comfortable on his back before tying the blindfold. Kneeling between the spread of his legs, Hanzo starts at his lips, already slick and kiss-bitten. Then his neck, the wonderful scruff of his jaw, softer now that his beard has grown out. His chest remains tender beneath the lycra of a sports bra, so Hanzo treats it with the care it deserves. His stomach is no longer swollen and hollow as it was shortly after Hikaru's birth, much easier to kiss and deliciously soft, streaked with lightning stripes. He can't help but scratch his fingers through the dense fur of his chest and belly, hungry for all that Jesse has to give him. 

Hanzo continues tracing a map from powerful shoulder to callused fingertip, across his stump to where metal meets flesh, and all over the thick, hairy thighs he loves so much. Between his legs where veins now bulge and skin often chafes, Hanzo lets his lips linger, loving the taste. He helps Jesse flip over, props him up on pillows and admires the hitch in his breathing. Applies the same treatment along the backs of his legs, building anticipation until he grabs two greedy handfuls of Jesse's amazing ass. 

“Easy on the merchandise,” Jesse huffs, his voice oddly hushed. 

Hanzo laughs, moving on to flicking his tongue and pressing kisses across Jesse's sensitive, broad back. He twitches so easily, Hanzo can't imagine how he sat through the elaborate tattoo of Peacekeeper at the base of his spine. He doesn't hurry, savouring all the little shivers until he reaches the back of his neck and gently digs his teeth into the muscle there. 

“Hon?” Jesse pipes up as Hanzo's arms slide around him, a hesitance in his voice. “Sorry, I know you're probably riled up, but- can you just, hold onto me for a bit?” 

“Of course,” he answers without question, worried as he tugs the blindfold away and settles Jesse in his arms the way he likes. “Are you alright?” 

Jesse nods, expression unseen in the dark. “More than alright. I just- need this right now.” 

Hanzo spares his words in case he missteps and cuddles Jesse close. The bare, warm bulk of him is better than any weighted blanket, and Hanzo loves it as much as watching him come, making him come. In the morning, he looks at pictures of Hikaru for a while before Jesse wakes up and rolls on top of him, the eagerness of the previous night surging back. 

“We haven't used condoms in a while,” Hanzo remarks as he rolls one carefully over himself. “Almost feels like we're hooking up.” 

“Like I picked you up in a bar and took you back to my place?” Jesse chuckles, straddling his lap. “You better make it worth my while, then. I don't eat omelettes with just anybody.” 

Hanzo laughs and rushes up to meet Jesse's kiss, knocking their noses together instead. “Shit!” 

“Ngh, fuck- rookie mistake.” Jesse exhales, rubbing his nose while Hanzo does the same. “Am I bleeding?” 

“No, am I?” 

“Nah, you're fine.” Jesse rocks his hips down, rutting against Hanzo's flagging erection. “Still good? We only got an hour and some.” 

Hanzo smiles and wraps his arms around him. “Let's make the most of it, then.” 

Showering off the sex and sweat makes them a bit late, but Ana doesn't seem to mind, the picture of leisure wrapped in a big sweater and holding her morning tea. “You'll have to bring him back soon, I hardly got to hold him.” 

“Ah, forgive me, I'm just such a big fan!” Reinhardt appears over her shoulder, Hikaru happily ensconced in his massive arms, getting tickled under the chin. “He's such a sweet little one, and who can resist that smile?” 

Hanzo is glad they aren't doing this alone, though he's excited to have his son home. As is Jesse, who resists putting him down for his afternoon nap to cuddle him a little longer, slowly pacing the living room. “Papa missed you, sweetness. What am I gonna do when you start goin' to school? I'll be a wreck.” 

“We could always homeschool,” Hanzo jokes, handing Jesse a rinsed pacifier. 

“Heh, nah, I don't want him to live his life by my worries. It's just-” Jesse huffs, pausing and rubbing Hikaru's back when he grumbles. “Felt like it was so much easier to protect him when he was in here, yanno? Soon he'll be crawling and walking and- hell, I don't know how any of us make it to adulthood. Kids are crazy.” 

“I know,” Hanzo says kindly, drawing close and patting Hikaru's diaper-covered bottom. “Genji was on a mission to annihilate himself from age zero to twenty, he still made it, somehow.” 

Jesse scoffs. “Yeah, but y'all had guards and nannies and shit.” 

Hanzo smiles in spite of himself. “Perhaps, but bigger fools than us have succeeded at this.” 

“True enough,” Jesse smiles lopsided, eyes widening as Hikaru starts to grunt. “Oh geez, sounds like a diaper situation, six o'clock.” 

“I'll janken you for it.” Hanzo holds out his fist. 

Jesse waves his free hand. “Forget it, you and your brother always cheat.” 

“We do not! How can you cheat at janken?” 

“I dunno, your dragons whisper to you or something. You're both too good at it, the statistics don't hold up.” 

Speaking of dragons, it isn't long after that Hanzo exits the bathroom (having sufficient time and privacy to clip his nails and trim his chest hair is a luxury he has come to deeply appreciate) and is immediately summoned. “Han? You better come and look at this.” 

Fearing an ailment that will involve a visit to Angela and much wailing, Hanzo trudges out to the back veranda to find Hikaru on his playmat, sitting up and leaning heavily forward on a small, deep red dragon. 

“I swear, I turned my back for five seconds to water the flowers and bam! Surprise noodle.” Jesse gestures excitedly, crouching on his good knee and smiling at their wobbling son. “Do they normally just appear like this?” 

“I don't really remember,” Hanzo answers in muted surprise, his own dragons slipping from his shoulders to inspect and greet the new arrival. “But I suppose they must.” 

Jesse says something else, but Hanzo misses it. His eyes locked on Hikaru- a piece of both of them come to life and wholly separate -his fluffy black hair waving in the breeze, the trusting way he balances himself on the body of his dragon as it floats before him, the way his face scrunches up in serious concentration at this all-important task. 

“You weren't here a year ago.” Hanzo smiles as Hikaru splashes in his little green bath chair. “How is it I feel as though I've always known you?” 

“Bahbah!” Hikaru smacks his hands in the water, reaching for a rubber duck and beginning to cry when he can't get it. 

“Your grandfather once told me that children pick their parents.” Hanzo nudges the duck towards him, soothing him instantly. “They look down from heaven and decide who they'll be born to.” He covers his son's eyes as he uses a cup to rinse the remaining suds from his head. “He also told me that a toilet ghost would swallow me whole if I didn't wash my hands, so I don't know how much stock to put in his stories.” 

“Boh?” Hikaru looks up at him curiously, his dragon swirling through the water behind him. He has such an expressive face, Hanzo often wonders what he's thinking. How nice it will be, to finally ask him. 

“I don't know that you chose us, or me, at least.” Hanzo uses both hands to mould his son's hair into a tiny, yet very punk mohawk. “But I'm so glad you're here. I love having you around.” 

Even on the most trying days, when the wails make their heads throb and nothing turns out right, the love Hanzo feels washes over him like an incredible storm. His inner landscape is changed, bent towards a cooing little boy with shining brown eyes and an inquisitive, affectionate nature. Swathed in innocent simplicity yet miraculous enough for Hanzo to long for his company even after an hour of coaxing him to sleep. 

“You'll feel better if you rest, Hikaru,” Hanzo soothes, voice strained after a week of illness, migraines, and general upheaval within their small house. Jesse is trying to sleep beyond their bedroom door, sharp words fading quickly. After a nerve-wracking nine months, they are quicker to forgive. Doing what's right in the moment takes precedence over past slights, and simply making it from sun to sun is a sufficient accomplishment for all of them. 

Hikaru continues to cry, red-faced and raw, fists balled and feet kicking as he roils with overtiredness. Gentle bounces, pacifiers, and bottles all rejected, Hanzo can only pace and offer any other comforts he can think of. 

He presents his son with a fleecy blanket, topped with a soft elephant plush. Hikaru's sobs hitch, his tiny fingers wrapping around the toy that had been stuffed between the rails of his crib. Cries keep hiccuping out of his small, strong lungs, unable to relax so easily, but relief blooms on his very Jesse-like face as he clutches it tightly, preciously to his cheek. 

His love for the already-worn toy sends a protective rush through Hanzo. How few years of his young life had passed before he was no longer permitted to love things, to choose, to express any preference beyond what served the Clan and a legacy that was never his own? 

Moments later, with Hikaru gradually succumbing to sleep, he texts Satya. 

**HS:** It's the middle of the day and I'm crying because my son likes things. 

**SV:** Parenting's quite the ride, isn't it? 

**HS:** You have no idea. 

On a hot, heady day, Hanzo purchases a fishing pole on a whim. He has to learn to make choices for himself before he can model them for Hikaru. It takes practice, but one sunrise he finally reels in some bream, carrying them home in a bucket to clean and chop them up for lunch. 

“These are really good, darlin',” Jesse says, his cheek full of sushi. He laughs when Hikaru reaches for the chopsticks in his hand. “Nuh-uh, you're gonna need a few more chompers before you try this.” 

“Finish your mush, Hikaru.” Hanzo holds out a spoonful to draw his attention from chewing on Jesse's fingertip. They blend it themselves, forever trying to sneak more vegetables in beneath the sweet taste of blueberries and plums that he loves. “Otou-san will catch you some fish when you're older.” 

Maybe he could teach him how to fish, would he like that? Hanzo has a thousand questions about who their son will be, and yet part of him would happily freeze them in this moment; seated around their small, freecycled dinner table, the dragons sunning themselves on the back of Hikaru's high chair while he messily gobbles up his lunch. 

“You should get one of those nets, like the ones they use on those little skiffs,” Jesse adds, finishing his plate. “I bet you could catch a ton with one of those.” 

Hanzo shrugs, considering it. “Maybe, we'll see.” 

Summer rolls on and he hasn't been to the base on business in months. They've found a new routine. Waking up with Hikaru (and often the sun, or even before), breakfast, Jesse heads off to teach sharpshooting to new recruits or else fixes things around the house. Hanzo looks after their son and they trade off dull necessities in the late afternoon. They take supper early unless they have visitors, and Hanzo goes fishing before sunset. He had been fascinated with the ocean as a child, feeling it froth around him as he hauls in bounties of fish is satisfying in a way he hadn't anticipated. 

“How much did ya sell?” Jesse asks, walking up with Hikaru strapped onto his back. He's getting bigger, and more mobile, his legs wiggling eagerly on sight of Hanzo and his hand reaching out for him. It tugs at his heart, though Hikaru pulls a face when he leans in to kiss his forehead. Rightly so, fish combined with man-sweat is far from an appealing scent. 

“Most of it,” Hanzo slings his net over his shoulder as they leave the market, their portion of the catch in the cooler he wheels behind him. He wishes he had a free hand to hold Jesse's. “Not bad money, if my luck keeps up.” 

Jesse hums around the lollipop in his mouth, a solution to his oral fixation when he's carrying Hikaru. “Say, what if we got some chickens for the backyard?” 

Hanzo chuckles. “Why don't we start with a chicken and see how that goes?” 

Jesse clicks his tongue, shooting Hanzo a beseeching smile. “Aw, c'mon, they have to have friends!” 

“Okay, two chickens.” 

“Four chickens.” 

“Three chickens, final offer. And where does one even buy chickens?” 

Jesse, unsurprisingly, knows someone, and also knows where to get enough scrap wood, metal, and wire to put an entire coop together in the space of a weekend. That's the sort of cowboy industriousness that turns Hanzo on so much it almost frightens him. 

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Jesse holds Hikaru under his armpits, his feet in the grass though he's still only crawling. All three of them are shirtless beneath the late afternoon sun, their apple juice supply already depleted. “Did Papa do a good job?” 

“Papa!” 

Jesse's laugh is a short bark of sunshine. He hoists their son up in front of him. “Yeah, that's me! I'm your Papa!” 

“Papapa!” Hikaru squeals as he's tossed lightly in the air, repeating the phrase as Jesse smothers him with kisses. 

“He'll vomit on you if you keep doing that.” Hanzo grins helplessly, scattering another handful of feed for their small, skittish flock. 

“Occupational hazard.” Jesse grins back, balancing Hikaru on one arm and laying a couple more smooches on his chubby cheeks. Hanzo hopes they'll become covered in freckles like his Papa's in a few years' time. 

“So you're a fisherman now?” Genji asks, laying prone on their couch the following week and tossing a giggly Hikaru in much the same fashion. He has been vomited upon, and yet he still risks it. 

“I suppose.” Hanzo takes a long sip of his beer, his sore back comforted in the recliner they got in exchange for fixing a neighbour's sagging porch. “It's relaxing, and it's nice to catch what you eat.” 

Jesse is doing research and mapping out which sections of the yard to till for crops when the time is right. They'll be halfway self-sustaining, if it all works out. 

“That's really cool,” Genji says suddenly, sitting up and provoking disappointed grumbles from his nephew. “You seem happy.” 

“I'm very happy,” Hanzo answers around another sip, as if it should be obvious. He is exceptionally, undeservedly lucky and he will hold on to his family and their ordinary life with all the strength he has and more. 

“It's just...unexpected, I guess.” Genji's lips purse over the metal ridge of his jaw, Hikaru's dragon chasing his own across his shoulders. 

“Are you disappointed?” Hanzo asks, quick to adjust his words when his brother looks at him askance. “That I didn't stay in Overwatch, I mean. I know it was important to you.” 

“Oh! No, god no,” Genji laughs, ducking his head. He's older too, age written into lines of his skin and the tenor of his voice, but he still carries the mannerisms of a lively young man, for which Hanzo is grateful. “It wasn't Overwatch. I wanted us to reconnect, and we couldn't do that while you were going on hungover depression rambles around the world.” 

“I suppose not,” Hanzo scoffs, sipping again. He's scarcely drank since Hikaru was born, scared that he might drop him or sleep too deeply or- 

“Besides, it wasn't so long ago that I held a blade to your neck and you did nothing.” The change in Genji's eyes always startles him, the thrall the same as their mother's, impossible for anyone to look away. For a long time, Hanzo preferred him with his visor on. “I didn't want you to fight, specifically, I wanted you to have a reason to fight. If this is your reason, then I'm glad for it. As long as it's enough, I'm glad for it.” 

Hanzo's mind rails with critiques of Genji's words- too knowing, too sentimental, too simplistic -he chooses none, but cannot find other words, opting to stare at the chipped tile floor instead. 

Hikaru coos hungrily, and he glances up to find Genji's tank top strap in his fist and his brother laughing, scooping his nephew up. “Sorry, Hikarin, this milk bar closed a long time ago.” He looks up at Hanzo, eyes aglow instead of stormy. “Can I give him a bottle?” 

“Sure.” Hanzo gets up and quickly warms one in the kitchen. Hikaru is not at all amenable to being bounced, his face flushing in frustration until his uncle presents him with the bottle. His instantaneous contentment makes Hanzo wish he loved anything as much as their baby loves milk. 

“Oh, you were hungry, weren't you?” Genji chuckles as Hikaru sucks noisily, practically gulping it down. “I haven't gotten to do this since he was a newborn, and he fell asleep halfway through.” 

“Hah, sorry, it's always a game of pass the baby when we bring him to base.” 

“Eh, it's not a problem or anything.” Genji shrugs, looking quite at ease for his lack of experience. “Oh- and Zen wanted me to tell you he's on board for an overnight visit, just floating that out there for your next date night.” 

Hanzo snorts at his brother's waggling eyebrows. “Our date nights are mostly sleeping and looking at photos of him, not that I'm complaining.” He glances at his hungry son. “Go ahead and burp him now, otherwise he'll have gas later.” 

“Nerds.” Genji does as instructed, propping Hikaru back up and producing an audible belch within a few pats. “Woah, that was like a man-burp. Well done!” 

Hanzo laughs, swishing the remnants of his beer around the can. “He gets it from his Papa.” 

“Don't single Jesse out, I've heard you rattle the walls.” Genji smirks, laying Hikaru back down and giving him back the bottle he's grabbing for. “Do you think you'll stay here?” 

“Well, I don't know about forever.” Hanzo hums, staring out the window at the sliver of ocean beyond their neighbour's hedges. Jesse expressed a desire to return to the Southwest, and Hanzo would like to return to Japan for at least a visit, if it ever feels sufficiently safe to do so. “But for the foreseeable future, we have no reason to leave.” 

“Good.” Genji nods, an ease in his bright smile. “I'd be sad if I had to hop on a flight to raid your fridge.” 

Fareeha visits as often as she can, even house/baby-sitting free of charge for their anniversary. They end up coming home early when the cinema is closed for unscheduled maintenance, Hikaru still wide awake on his playmat. 

“Did you have a good time with your Auntie?” Jesse squats down beside him, squishing both his cheeks to make him squeal. “Were you a good boy?” 

“Bahbahbah!” 

“Hm, I don't know about that. You don't look too trustworthy.” 

“I can stay longer if you guys wanna go make out somewhere,” Fareeha offers, sprawled on the floor in her sweats, collecting the toys and books scattered all around. “We've been having a ton of fun. He loves this busy board thing.” 

“That's quite alright. How were the leftovers-” Hanzo cuts himself off when Hikaru yanks himself up unsteadily on the edge of the couch, smiling wide. “Oh, look who's standing again! God, we really need to childproof this place.” 

Fareeha makes a small noise, and Jesse catches her expression from where he's squatting. “What's that look for?” 

“Ughhhh,” Fareeha moans into her hands. “I wasn't gonna say anything, but- he was doing that earlier and all of the sudden he let go and took his first steps! I couldn't get to my phone in time, I'm a thief of priceless moments, I'm so sorry.” 

“Awh, 'Reeha,” Jesse chuckles, reaching out to fluff up Hikaru's overgrown hair. “Did you traumatize your Auntie? Did you do that?” 

“Ah-gah!” Hikaru drools magnificently, his few teeth shining in the lamplight. 

“How far did he walk?” Hanzo asks, his dragons slipping from his arm to join Hikaru's slender dragon in acting as a bumper behind him as he continues cruising. 

“Like two steps, then he fell on his butt.” Fareeha grins, scooping him up as she stands. “Gotta start somewhere. Right, little guy?” 

Hanzo chuckles, shaking his head slightly, feeling a flush of pride and fear all at once. “When he learns how to run, it's all over for us.” 

“You wanna borrow him for a bit?” Jesse stands with a grunt and a few cracks. “Let Satya check out his squishy thighs? Maybe give 'em a squeeze or two?” 

Fareeha bites off a curse, choosing to kick Jesse's shin with her sock foot. “Dude, shut up.” 

“What about these cute little toes, hm?” Jesse lifts Hikaru's foot- bare due to him recently figuring out how to pull his socks off thirty times a day. “They might help-” 

“I'm done with you. I'm out, bye.” Fareeha plops Hikaru into Hanzo's arms, ducking to kiss his forehead and boop his nose. “Be good, you.” 

“What was that about?” Hanzo asks, bouncing a wiggly Hikaru in his arms after Jesse and Fareeha shout their teasing good-nights at each other. He hopes she appreciates the money he snuck into her jacket and doesn't try to give it back like last time. 

“Well,” Jesse draws out the word as he slips out of his suit jacket, his tongue in his cheek. “You didn't hear this from me, but her n' Satya are trying to make the magic happen. Following a calendar and the whole bit.” 

“Oh, wow.” Hanzo raises his eyebrows. He's surprised Satya's said nothing to him, but supposes it's a bit too personal to bring up over brunch. “That's sudden.” 

Jesse shrugs, looking even hotter in just his shirt. No tie and one button undone, visual perfection. “They know what they want, why waste time?” 

“Paaapaaa,” Hikaru whines, wriggling and reaching for Jesse eagerly. Watching them together, Hanzo finds himself excited to see them as uncle and cousin, should Satya and her sweet girlfriend be as lucky as they were. 

Their son settles considerably in the bath, happily slotting against Hanzo's shoulder as he carries him down the hall, stuffed toy in hand and buttoned into animal-print pajamas. 

“Hell yeah, hit me with that clean baby smell.” Jesse lifts Hikaru up to plant his face against his round belly. “Mmm, nothin' better.” 

“You can't find a fresher baby than that.” Hanzo smiles, setting the plate of peanut butter toast down beside Jesse. “Though I suppose he won't be a baby for much longer. If he's already walking-” 

“Hush,” Jesse tsks, half-frowning as he yanks his undershirt up, already in his boxers for the night. “He'll always be my baby, nothin's gonna change that.” 

“Ah, you're one of those parents now?” Hanzo teases, sitting and removing his legs. He winces at the pneumatic hiss, his stumps raw to the air. He isn't taking them off nearly as often as he should, nor is Jesse with his arm, but the diaper rash cream Zenyatta supplies works wonders on their broken-down skin. 

“Damn skippy I am.” Jesse chuckles, shifting on the end of the bed and getting comfortable. “I made this little anklebiter, he's still gonna be my baby when he's thirty-five. He best get used to it now.” 

“You certainly did.” Hanzo grins, scooting over until he can embrace his partner from behind. Bare chest to bare back, his arms snug around Jesse's middle while Hikaru contentedly nurses away. More comfort and supplement now, Jesse is grateful for the reduced leakage and soreness, though he's taken a stubborn, admirable pride in feeding him. He's nearly one now, and Jesse has kept him full and growing all along. 

Hanzo plants a lazy kiss between his shoulders, the slightest tickle of fuzz beneath his lips. “You are incredible.” A scatter of kisses across his shoulderblade. “It's a privilege to love you.” 

Jesse's voice is soft, his ability to turn hampered by Hikaru's hungry, sleepy sprawl against his chest. “Hanzo-” 

“He's so lucky to have you for a father,” Hanzo replies simply, nuzzling his face against Jesse's scarred, acne-dotted skin. He remembers the first time they were this close, on a failed mission in the Himalayas, when Jesse held him for the first time and the entire world seemed to reboot. Finally, he leans up, craning his neck forward to smooch Jesse's cheek. “Happy anniversary, my love.” 

Jesse says nothing at first, the squeeze of his hand and the breathless puff of his laughter telling plenty. He twists and kisses him back, one of Hanzo's hands sliding up to help cradle Hikaru, a tender catch in Jesse's voice. “Happy anniversary, darlin'.” 

Hanzo beams, laying his cheek against his back again, listening to Jesse's distant heartbeat and enjoying the feeling of him in his arms. Soon they'll kiss each other good morning and feed their son and themselves again. They'll clean their little house and collect eggs, Hanzo will go fishing and Jesse will head off to the range. Hikaru will coo and wave at the boats on the foggy sea as they return from the market. Their bickering indecision will probably end in another evening of old movies they've already seen. Jesse will get the mail, he'll sort the trash, and they'll put the leftovers in the slow-cooker for tomorrow, provided the dragons don't knock them over again. 

They will be a family, and it will be phenomenally, astonishingly enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fluffy baby content! 
> 
> Jesse is indeed singing Te Amo Y Mas from The Book of Life, because I was listening to the soundtrack and realized that movie would be nostalgic by whatever vague point in the future they're living in. Also turning romantic songs into lullabies seems to be a common and occasionally hilarious thread amongst parents of babies! 
> 
> Shoutout to all the good dads (and folks wanting to be good dads) out there! Fictional and non, there's so many ways to be a dad and I love and support all of you. Stay safe friends, and happy leap year!


End file.
